Julian
by teaonthestairs
Summary: Ethan Rayne discovers he has a child he never knew about, an innocent little girl with a gift she can't control. (Response to a Gidgetgirl Challenge)
1. Fire Burning

**Julian. **

_A/N This is in response to a Gidgetgirl challenge, the challenge can be found at the end of this story. As always I just want to thank Meals (Xanya-Forever), because she is the lace to my shoe. _

Ethan Rayne sat outside in the rays of the setting sun, soaking up the air of freedom while nursing a half filled tumbler of whiskey. It had become a ritual of sorts since he had been released from the dank hole The Initiative had called a detention facility. Three years of making nice to a bunch of military types in a sodding desert in the middle of nowhere was not how Ethan Rayne liked to spend his time, and if that wasn't enough, within two months of his entering that hellhole they had him doing magic by order of the government. Rehabilitating his ass! The magic he had done in those three years was darker and more chaos worthy then what he had done in his lifetime, and that in itself was a worthy achievement.

After three years he had finally determined that enough was enough. Sure, he had learned some nasty tricks that he wouldn't mind trying out on the unsuspecting public, but he wanted to drink something that did not taste like cow piss and eat something not mass produced. After promising impossible favours to powerful associates, he had walked into the scorching sun a free man. Not that he wasn't still doing 'favours' for the American government, but at least he was back in the mother country. The setting sun was doing nothing to remind him of the freedom he had once craved. Its blood red streaks reminded him of the bashings the younger guards used to hand out whenever it suited them. Shaking his head, Ethan picked up the bottle of good English whiskey and continued to drown his sorrows.

---

Outside the world was turning dark, the setting sun making a blazing red trail across the sky. Inside a decrepit, rotting house, a child huddled closer to a dirt stained wall, her dark unkempt hair hiding a pale face. She whimpered softly as a crash from the next room made the walls shake.

She hated it there, in that house. Hated her Mama for leaving her there, hated Pa who was forever hitting and screaming. Hated the endless stream of women who came through the door. She could hear the cry of one right now, her high-pitched voice easily carrying through the walls.

Hatred come easily to Julian, her Mama had hated her and that's why she had left, and Pa hated her, but that was okay because she hated Pa too.

She could remember a time before Pa, just her and Mama. Mama had taken her to the park and Mama had loved her.

The grunting and giggles become more pronounced and Julian covered her ears. She hated it when Pa brought women home, it meant she had to stay quiet and still. Julian hated staying quiet and still, but if she didn't, Pa would get really angry and then she'd end up with more bruises.

Looking for something to keep out the noise, Julian's eyes fell on the room's wardrobe, its heavy wooden doors slightly open. Julian stared; that never, ever happened. Pa always made sure that both wardrobes in the house were closed and locked; it was where he kept his things, and she wasn't allowed to touch his things. She remembered when she had touched his good knife in the kitchen once. Luckily the hotplate wasn't hot enough to leave serious burns on her hand, but she had learnt her lesson.

Turning her head away she tired to ignore it. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12…. Her eyes were once again focused on the wardrobe and its open door. 13, 14, 15. Just a little look, Pa wouldn't know. Julian got up, careful not to make a sound as she tiptoed across the room; her hand hesitated on the door handle. Pa would be so mad if he found out, but Pa was always mad and he was busy now, just a little look.

The doors opened quietly revealing inch by inch the contents of the wardrobe; she wanted to find treasures like gold and sparkling swords or toys like the girl next door had, but instead there was a pile of clothes and some old books. Why would Pa keep these locked up? Julian was so caught up in her disappointed she didn't notice the absence of the grunts and giggles. As she reached to pick up one of the tattered books she didn't notice the soft footsteps and the creak of the old door. As she watched an old photo fall from the book she didn't hear a man's heavy breathing.

The women in the next room sat up as she heard a child's cry pierce the heavy silence; it was shrill and filled with pain. Every time she came to this dump she tired to ignore the small slip of a child who was usually huddled in an out of the way corner; she tried to ignore the discoloured bruisers that covered the small child's body; she tried to ignore the lost innocence in its eyes. It was so hard though, and many a time she found herself about to pick up the phone to call child services, but then she would see Mick in her mind, his giant, muscled body taut with rage, his eyes shining with insanity and she banished the thought of contacting child services from her mind. But that cry - coming to a decision she wrapped a dirty sheet around her naked body and shuffled down the hall, pausing before the partially opened door where the sounds of a fist striking flesh echoed. She waited, knowing Mick would be so mad, but another cry sounded and she steeled herself and entered the room.

Julian curled up in a ball, hoping Pa would stop soon. She hurt and she wanted it to stop. She could hear his voice, the angry whispered words making her shake even more than she was… "after all I have done for you..." She tried to block them out, but as he grabbed her hair to pull her upright, it was impossible "... Stupid worthless piece of shit…" She hated him, she wanted him to disappear like Mama and then maybe she could have a nice home with a dog and a doll. He never disappeared though, he was always there "…. Should have taught you a lesson long ago…." He hadn't ever been this bad before "…. Whore!" Hate him hate him HATE HIM!

Julian didn't notice that she was glowing faintly, and neither did Mick as his fist swing towards Julian's leg. What he did notice was the slight burning sensation that spread like crawling ants all over his body. His arm stopped its descent and instead become taut, as the slight burning sensation became a raging inferno and he let out an excruciating scream that escaped the confines of the house and shattered through the neighborhood.

The women at the door watched in horror as Mick's skin seemed to be burned away by an invisible fire. Her voice joined his as she watched, panic freezing her to the spot.

Julian didn't notice the screams or the fact that Pa had stopped hitting her. Tears dripped down her bruised face as she stared at the photo that had fallen out of the book. The women in it had shining dark red hair and a blinding smile as she stared down at the little baby in her arms… "Mama" Julian whispered before slipping into darkness.

_(Okay So I'm very nervous about posting this, would you be so kind as to tell me what you think. Thank you)_


	2. The Phone Call

_(Opps last chapter I forgot the all-important disclaimer… so I'll do it now 'Not mine, never will be, I'm just messing up Joss's kitchen' Thanks as always goes to Meals (Xanya-forever) who not only Beta'd this chapter but has big scary exams that she is going to Ace!)_

Ethan could believe he was doing this, a _father_ – him! It still seemed impossible, but here he was, sitting in the waiting room of the damn Children services offices, waiting to pick a kid who he had never met, but was his daughter. He laughed out loud, a bitter sound that startled the two other occupants of the room, one of whom was a plump secretary, muttering curses under her breath as she thumped on the keyboard. The other was middle-aged women with stringy grey hair and a hunch back. The laugh sounded off the walls echoing again and again in his head. Damn this waiting! His head was pounding and his magic felt drained. He wanted to be at home, maybe with a good tumbler of scotch.

He didn't know what he was doing here. What did he know about raising a kid? His own childhood had consisted of drunken shouting, his mother's ragged sobs, and his father's scared fists. He wouldn't be a good role model; he was a selfish bastard who spent more of his time drunk then sober, but since that phone call nearly a month before, all he could think of was getting custody of his kid.

_"Am I talking to a Mr. Ethan Rayne?" _

_The phone's infernal ringing had woken Ethan from his alcohol-induced slumber. He had rolled over expecting to find himself lying comfortably on his bed, but instead found himself slumped in the wicker chair on his balcony. His neck and back ached, and his head pounded from the vast amounts of alcohol he had consumed last night, Registering that the phone was still ringing, he had staggered through the balcony doors and picked it up with a heavy grumble. It was then that he was greeted by the overly cheer and formal voice on the other end._

_"Hello?" _

_The formal and cheery voice sounded again, and Ethan grunted a groggy "Ethan speaking."_

_The voice continued _

_"I hope I haven't woken you, Mr. Rayne, but I have a very important matter to speak with you about. My name is Cathy Grant and I work for Child Services."_

_There was a pause and when it was obvious that Ethan wasn't going to say anything, Ms Cathy Grant continued. _

_"Mr. Rayne, I would just like to take a moment of your time to ask you a few questions, is that alright?"_

_Ethan sighed, as his head pounded with every word Cathy Grant spoke. He just wanted to hang up the phone and maybe have another shot of whisky to make the pain go away. He could hear Cathy Grant's irritated huff as she was subjected to another length of silence. "Yeah go ahead" The words were slightly hoarse and Ethan wondered if Cathy even understood what he said. _

_"Mr. Rayne, do you know a Miss Bethany Hughes?"_

_Ethan stilled. Bethany was a name he had been trying to forget, a person who was unforgettable. _

_"Mr Rayne?"_

_Ethan could hear Cathy Grant's impatience, the length of the silences before she prompted were getting shorter, but he couldn't speak. The memories that that name evoked were travelling before his eyes like a film on fast forward. He hadn't loved Bethany; it wasn't love that they had, love would have spoiled it all. People like them didn't love, but the passion between them was unforgettable. He had known her for years. They grew up in the same neighbourhood; her brother had beaten him up all through their childhood. Bethany had turned him into a man so to speak._

_"Yeah." he granted again. _

_"Mr. Rayne, I realise this might be a bit of a shock to you, but Miss Hughes died nearly 12 months ago, in a car crash._

_Shock. No it wasn't shock, it was denial. _

_"What? No! Not Bethy!"_

_His hoarse cry echoed down the phone line making Cathy Grant jump a little. She hated giving news like this, but within her line of work, it was a regular thing. _

_"I'm afraid so, Mr. Rayne, she died in a car crash in November last year."_

_Ethan tried to get himself under control. This couldn't be happening. Bethany dead? No, it couldn't happen. But it had. The rational part of his brain that didn't often make an appearance was slowly working past the denial, breaking through the shock and the hangover that was ceasing to exist. _

_"Mr. Rayne, I'm very sorry to be the one to inform you of this tragic accident, but it is not the reason that I am calling. In her Will, Miss Hughes named you as the father of her daughter, Julian. This was unfortunately just brought to our attention. We are not quite sure how it…"_

_Ethan tuned her out. What she was saying was probably important, but a daughter! The shock and denial had worn off just in time for another wave of shock to set in. A daughter? Him! He was hardly fit to look after himself let alone a child. A father? How did he know how to be a father! His own had walked out on him and his mother when he was nine, and before that he had been an asshole of a man who spent most of his time in a drunken rage.. Ethan's thoughts slowed down as he finally began listening to what Cathy Grant was saying._

__

_"…killed only a couple of days-"_

_"Wait what? Killed - who was killed?" _

_Cathy Grant kindly repeated what she had been droning on about._

_"Mick Cornal was killed in his home a couple of days ago."_

_"Why the bloody hell should I care? I thought we were talking about Beth… and her kid!"_

_"Mr Ethan if you had been listening you would have heard me explain that because of an error in our Eastern suburbs office, Julian was not removed from the house Miss Hughes was living in before her death. Instead she remained there with Miss Hughes' partner, a Mr. Mick Cornal. It was only after Mr. Cornal's death that we found out about this breach and sought to fix it." _

_This was too much. Ethan sunk down onto the floor, his head between his hands. This was out of control. His life was spinning away out of his grasp and he didn't know how to stop it. _

_"Mr. Rayne, I know this is a shock to you, but I must ask - do you want to claim custody of the child if it is proved that you are indeed her father?"_

_Ethan couldn't deal with this now, he needed time and maybe a few drinks. _

_"I need to think about this."_

_Cathy Grant's response was immediate and well practiced.  
  
_

_"Of course, Mr. Rayne, take your time. Here's my number, call if you have any questions."_

(Be a Nice Poppet and Review… I'm not sure about Ethan's characterization. I promise Julian appears again in the next chapter.)


End file.
